Sixth Time's the Charm
by EquinoxCroll
Summary: James Potter had asked her before for a date, several times, although not always for himself. Now, as Lily Evans gazes at her reflection in the mirror, she wonders why he keeps asking her and just why she's finally said yes. Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. Her lawyers agree, so don't get them riled by confusing us. Thank you very much to Natalie (hestiajones) for beta'ing this fic


It wasn't love, Lily told herself. No one in their right minds (except perhaps the fluffy-haired Hufflepuff, Hestia Jones) would seriously be 'in love' on a first date ... even if the date _was_ with James Potter. Or _especially_ if it was with James Potter, who had been the bane of Lily's life since the middle of their fifth year. She paused as she applied some lipstick, blotting her lips between a tissue; it was a first date, that was all – perhaps the only date. She definitely wasn't in love.

James and she had tolerated each other for years, sometimes passing the time of day as classmates do, occasionally fighting – especially when he picked on others - but more often than not just leading their own separate but parallel lives. He was a boy, and she was a girl, and so for four-and-a-half years they'd had very little to do with each other. But then, nearly two years ago, James Potter had asked her out for Valentine's Day.

She was standing in the Entrance Hall with Mary, both of them bemoaning the fact that Valentine's Day was horrible if you didn't have a boyfriend, and consoling each other with the knowledge that at least they were _both_ single and could buy all the chocolate they wanted and not have to worry about sharing it with said boyfriend. As Lily turned up towards the staircase to Gryffindor Tower, she saw him standing just a small distance from them – watching her.

"I'll take you out, Evans," James offered, and smiled in that jaunty, cocky way of his.

Taken by surprise, she mumbled 'no' and then scurried back to the Tower. Mary, giggling like mad, proceeded to tell the other girls in their dormitory all about it.

"He's not bad looking," Sonia Slattery conceded, as they got ready for bed. Sonia was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her thick blonde hair and then plaiting it tightly to prevent knots. "Not in _my_ Sirius' league, of course, but James does play Quidditch." She turned away from the mirror and stared at Lily. "You could do a lot worse."

"Wow, thanks for that, Sonia!" Lily exclaimed sarcastically, and got into bed, turning her back on the others who were still laughing. _Bloody Potter! Why did he have to make it sound as if he were doing me such a favour?_

He asked her again the next day, but this time she was prepared, and coolly arching one eyebrow (she'd practised that particular look in front of the bathroom mirror), she replied scornfully that she had far better things to do than waste her time on a third-rate Quidditch player.

"Second-rate, at least, Evans," he retorted, and he whipped away from her. As he walked down the corridor, he hexed a third-year Slytherin who had the misfortune to collide with him.

"You're a third-rate player but a first-rate BULLY, POTTER!" she yelled after him and stooped to help the boy to his feet.

The third time he asked her out was on the twenty-seventh of March, the day he turned sixteen. Actually, it hadn't been a date he'd been after at all.

"Come for a walk in the grounds, Evans?" he asked, grinning again.

She considered it – honestly, she did – because sometimes she thought about boys in a certain way and was curious about him. Then Sirius ruined it by shouting out, "He wants a birthday snog!"

Everyone in the common room laughed; Lily had blushed furiously and said no again.

The fourth time ... well, that was just stupid! Did Potter honestly think she'd agree to go out with him when he was bullying Severus? It just showed what an utter prat he was, hexing Sev like that, and thinking she found it impressive – or funny even.

He must have realised that it would be no good asking her out for a while, because he didn't mention it for the rest of the fifth year. In fact, he barely talked to her at all, and she avoided him and Sirius, unable to look at them because they reminded her of the day when her friendship with Severus had crashed around her. She hated it that everyone had been right.

And she hated the fact that it took Potter and Black's asinine trick to break the facade of her friendship.

The fifth time he asked her out had been for the next year's Valentine's Day Slug Club party in Professor Slughorn's set of rooms. Well, again, she thought he was asking her for a date, but as she opened her mouth to answer, he forestalled her.

"It's not me, Evans, don't worry, I know you loathe me. But you're a member of the Slug Club too, so you can take a guest and ... well ... I ... uh ... _we _were hoping you'd take either Remus or Peter."

"And what if I already have a date?" she asked haughtily. "The party is in two days time!"

"Oh, uh, sorry," he replied, looking perplexed. "Do you? Have a date, I mean?"

She shifted her feet slightly, tracing a pattern in the dusty paving stone in the courtyard. Was it her imagination or did he sound slightly pensive? "Er, well, no, actually," she replied. James grinned at her and she felt her mouth twitch into a smile. "Okay, I'll take Remus. At least I can have a decent conversation with him. But what will you do about Peter?"

"Well, as Sirius is going with Martha, I'll take Peter. Doesn't exactly help my cool image but ..." James shrugged, and then smiled again.

"What cool image is that?" she teased.

James walked away, but just before he rounded the corner, he turned his head towards her. "Don't you know, Evans? Us second-rate Quidditch players are _always_ the cool ones. We're far more concerned with our 'look' than actually playing."

The afternoon before the party, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, captained by James, thrashed Ravenclaw four-hundred-and-sixty to one-hundred-and-ninety. James had played outstandingly. Lily watched from the stands and cheered with the rest of her House. As he took off his helmet and flew a lap of honour, she noticed he was dripping with sweat and flushed with the exertion of a brilliant game. "Not so cool now, Potter!" she yelled.

Briefly, James turned his head and flashed her a smile. Then he swerved away, and Lily, for some unaccountable reason, felt her stomach swerve with him as he hovered in front of the Hufflepuff stand and reached out his hand to embrace a girl from their year - Hestia Jones.

"Are you ready for our 'date'?" Remus asked as he climbed into the seat next to her. Lily wrenched her eyes away from James and gazed at Remus. She noticed that he looked a bit tired, but his dark brown eyes were warm and friendly. She tucked her arm in his.

"I think it could be a lot of fun," she replied. Pausing, she added in a casual voice, "I thought Potter didn't have a girlfriend. Isn't that why he's taking Peter to the party?"

"Hestia's in the Slug Club, isn't she?" queried Remus. Lily nodded. "Apparently she promised to take her brother, who wants to go because there's a Gryffindor girl he fancies." He stopped suddenly. "Oh, I think it's you, actually, Lily. Sorry, I probably shouldn't have told you that."

Lily stared at Remus in horror. She stood up, dragging him with her as they walked down the rickety wooden steps. "Ugh! Hector Jones gives me the creeps." The steps were crowded and it took them a good few minutes to reach the bottom. Lily turned her head. "Are you telling me that Potter knows Hector fancies me?"

Remus bit his lip. "Well, Hestia probably mentioned it, but I don't really know."

Lily scowled. "Whatever happens tonight, Remus, you are NOT allowed to leave me alone."

Remus grinned. "Okay, Lily, but it might be a bit of a problem for me getting into the girls' dorms."

She snorted and gripped his arm tighter. Remus always cheered her up, even when neither of them realised she was sad.

The sixth time James Potter asked her out, Lily was standing by the notice board pinning up the Hogsmeade schedule. Glancing sideways, she noticed him ... noticing her. He wasn't smirking this time, and she thought it was probably because he'd split up with Hestia the previous month and was still sad about that. She smiled sympathetically at him, trying to show that there were no hard feelings ... _of course_ there were no hard feelings ... they'd never been out and it wasn't his fault, or her fault, or even Hestia Jones' fault that James and she had never progressed beyond the odd bit of banter.

She gnawed her lip. Actually, it was her fault. She could have gone out with him the first time he'd asked her nearly two years ago. But ... but ... For Merlin's sake, why had he made it sound as if he were taking pity on her because she hadn't got a date?

So, perhaps, it _was _his fault. Perhaps if he'd been more ... more ... more diffident, then Lily would have said yes.

Perhaps if she hadn't practised her 'look' in the mirror overnight, then she wouldn't have said no the second time.

If Sirius hadn't shot his mouth off, then Lily would have gone for a walk under the moonlight with James on his sixteenth birthday. _Bloody Sirius! It was all his fault._

_And her, _she thought moodily. _Bloody Sirius and bloody Hestia Jones, the perfect Hufflepuff!_

"Hey there, Head Girl," James called.

_It's better than Evans, I suppose._

"Hey there, Head Boy," she called back.

He smiled – not a grin, or a smirk or a beam – just a smile that seemed to warm his face and bring a light to his eyes. "Hogsmeade notice, yeah?"

She nodded.

James cleared his throat. "I don't suppose ... uh ... Ev ... I mean, Lily, would you ... uh ..."

"Go with Remus or Peter?" she interrupted. "No, I don't think so, Potter."

He didn't laugh, or turn away and hex someone; James Potter stood there, hands in pockets and studied the ground. Then he lifted his head and squared his shoulders. "Lily, will you go on a date with me? To Hogsmeade? This Saturday?"

"Yes."

Lily decided on dark blue jeans that she'd tucked into ankle boots, and a cream coloured blouse, which she hoped, complimented her colouring. Throwing the blotted tissue into the bin, she checked her reflection again. It would have to do. She was never going to be as beautiful as Sonia, or as chocolate-box pretty as Hestia; she was Lily Evans with red hair and freckles. But then, she wasn't in love and neither was Potter and she was sure once they got through this unfinished business they called a date then that would be it.

'Got through' - that made it seem like a chore, an exam, or an ordeal, and it shouldn't be like that. It should be fun.

Hesitantly, she opened her dorm door and walked slowly down the stairs and towards the common room where she was sure James would be lounging on the sofa, laughing with his friends.

She was wrong.

James stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to the girl's dormitories. He smiled faintly at her, looking nervous, of all things. "You look great," he muttered appreciatively.

"So do you," she replied. She wasn't lying. James was wearing what looked suspiciously like a new pair of black jeans and a dark green T-shirt. Over his arm, he carried a brown jumper and his cloak. She noticed his hair looked particularly smooth, not messy as usual. It looked odd and very un-_Potterlike. _

"Shall we go?" he asked and held out his arm to her.

Lily accepted it, and together they walked down the staircases, through the Entrance Hall and out into the grounds – in silence. _Hell, this is awkward, _she thought. _What if we can't think of anything to say? What if he decides I'm really boring? What if he regrets finishing with Hestia and I'm just the rebound? What if..._

"Lily, are you okay?" His voice interrupted her panicky thoughts.

"Why didn't you tell me that Hector Jones liked me?" she blurted out.

James looked taken aback – but then it was a question she should have asked last year and not now in the middle of the Hogwarts grounds as they walked into Hogsmeade ... together ..._on a date_. He stared at her intensely and then looked at his feet. He raised his hand to his head as if to ruffle his hair, but then pulled away at the last moment. He shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't know you liked him – sorry." He started to walk back to the castle.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh ... well ... if you'd rather be with Hector, then I'll leave you to it."

"I don't like him," she said clearly. "I never liked him. I just thought it would have been nice if you'd warned me."

James smiled – his cheeky grin glimmering on his face – as he walked back towards her. Taking her arm, he pulled her closer. "I found you a body guard, didn't I?"

Lily thought back to the Valentine's Party, Remus not leaving her side, not even when the pretty Ravenclaw girl asked him for a dance. "Yes, you did," she said, giggling. "I had fun that night."

He grimaced. "More fun than me. Hestia tipped a whole jug of Butterbeer over my head for talking too long with Sirius."

They carried on walking, still in silence, but it was no longer awkward. And then, on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, just before they turned into the main street, James lifted his hand to Lily's face and touched her cheek, smoothing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

_Oh, my God! _she thought. _Is he going to kiss me? Should I let him? _

Her hands felt clammy and there was a strange feeling in her stomach, like butterflies before exams, except this felt much better and also far more important. An anticipatory shiver waved through her, and as she lifted her face upwards; he lowered his. Very slowly, and with infinite tenderness, he began to kiss her. His lips felt soft, cool and inviting, as they slowly teased her, his tongue delicately tracing the inside of her mouth. And Lily responded, tentatively at first, but then as James ran his hand through her hair, his thumb caressing her neck, she gave herself up utterly to the moment. The butterflies in her stomach had been replaced by a fierce hunger – a longing for this never to stop. When they broke apart, which could have been a second, a minute, or an hour later – she was no longer aware of time – Lily Evans knew, for sure, that she was in love.

James gazed at her sheepishly. "Sorry," he whispered.

"What are you sorry for?" she whispered back.

"First kisses. They're usually horrible and awkward so I wanted to get it over with," he muttered into her hair. "I should have at least bought you a cake or a hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot's first, but I didn't want it hanging over us."

"Was that one horrible and awkward?" she interrupted anxiously, as she tried to remember if she had cleaned her teeth properly that morning.

"Dreadful," he said, and then grinned at her crestfallen expression. "We definitely need a lot more practise."

Lily laughed, wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a second kiss. As James responded, she carefully lifted one hand atop his head and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Hey," he protested softly, "it took me ages to flatten that bit down."

"I like you ruffled, James," she murmured, "not smooth."


End file.
